


Moments

by Lindzzz



Series: The Evil Boyfriends Series [9]
Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Jack is gonna get what he wants, M/M, Riding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-07
Updated: 2013-03-07
Packaged: 2017-12-04 13:33:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/711304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lindzzz/pseuds/Lindzzz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Pitch wishes he had photographic memory.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Moments

**Author's Note:**

> This was done for an ask I got during a session of "Ask the Assholes" that asked the boys what their favorite positions were. I could have just given a simple answer but then this happened. 
> 
> So here is part one of that answer with Pitch's favorite position. Warning because I'm posting this barely beta'd and barely reviewed. Will probably go back and edit it when I can read it without screaming.

There are moments that Pitch wishes he could pause, capture perfectly and keep locked away forever. 

For once he’s surrounded by Jack instead of the other way around. Jack nestled in his lap, with Pitch buried deep inside him. One of Jack’s arms wound around his neck and the other hand clutching at his shoulder, Jack’s head bowed and pressed against the cut of Pitch’s cheek. The cold puffs against his skin as Jack pants and whines and gasps cracked, high and breathless sounds.

Pitch keeps a grip on Jack’s hip, making him stay still (though he wants oh he wants to drive up deeper into him wants to grab him and pound into him and make him scream but he has plans this time) and he slides the other up under Jack’s sweatshirt. There was a bit of a rush at first, where everything was crashing lips, sharp teeth, and grasping, demanding hands that left Jack with a shirt on and Pitch with his robe still half on.

They somehow managed to get to Jack’s little pile of cushions (Pitch is sure Jack’s wind helped with that, Pitch never really cared WHERE they ended up) and Pitch had pulled Jack onto his lap without hesitation. 

He was so small, so impossibly breakable and Pitch loved feeling how light he was, how Jack could be on him and he could still wrap around the boy. The sheer perfection of it brought him back down from the rush, let him control himself and make it last as he finally (finally) worked his fingers into Jack and slowly took him apart, made him shake and beg until he couldn’t even find the words to beg anymore. Pitch wanted this to last.

And still wants it to last, so he focuses on the feel of skin beneath his fingers, on the twitches of muscle as Jack makes himself stay still and the slick glide of sweat. Focuses on that to distract himself from the cold tight perfect grip surrounding him pulling him in trying to take him deeper and deeper into Jack’s core.

He digs his fingers into Jack’s hip, hisses as Jack retaliates by grinding down on him. 

“Pitch move!” He knows that Jack is trying to sound angry (he has to give credit to the fact that Jack can talk at all, considering he was incoherent earlier), but his voice is high and breathy and pleading as frost forms and melts instantly on Pitch’s heated skin. It’s cold and sharp on him even as the water slides down over his back and he has to lean forward and sink his teeth into Jack’s shoulder to keep himself under control. He wants this to last wants to see how long he can stay inside Jack where he can feel every heartbeat and every twitch pulsing against his cock.

That was not the best way of going about it however, Jack cries out and grinds against him and now there’s the taste of ice cold blood in his mouth and the feel of Jack’s skin giving way and bursting under his mouth like the sweetest fruit. He can feel his fingers lengthening into claws, pressing sharp into Jack’s back and hip and making the boy only whine higher and more desperate.

“The sounds you make...” he breathes, pressing his mouth against the bite, feeling blood well against his lips. “They sound like you’re dying, like you’re terrified even though you’re clinging to me, even though you’re so desperate and wanting...”

Jack shudders and clings to him harder, his voice is cracked and almost a sob now. “Pitch if you don’t move I’m going to punch you!”

Pitch smiles and moves to nip at new, untouched skin (wants to mark every inch, wants to see his fingers and mouth covering every bit of Jack.) He licks away the new rising blood, savoring the taste and how exquisitely it pairs with the sound of Jack’s gasping.

“Show me then,” he murmurs against Jack’s shoulder. “I don’t see why I should do all the work for you.”

He can feel Jack’s laugh mixing with the shudder running down his spine (can feel the way they come together and wrap around Pitch’s length, feels the vibrations and the excitement in the way Jack tightens around him.) There are cold lips smearing against his cheekbone, sliding along to his ear, where they turn into a sharp bite and blast of frost.

“Yeah? You asked for it.”

Jack’s arm tightens around his shoulders, braces as Jack lifts and slams himself back down, grinding and rolling his hips and all of Pitch’s plans for slow go flying away. He grasps at the small body thrusting against him, groans and sinks his teeth in again and drags angry red lines across Jack’s back and hips (and thighs and wherever else he can reach, he doesn’t even notice, can’t notice anything but the relentless push and pull and writhe of Jack surrounding him.)

And Jack doesn’t stop, doesn’t let up for a second as his fingers dig ice into Pitch’s muscles and his voice goes high and thin. “Pitch Pitch yes please Pitch-”

He had meant for Jack to do everything, meant to watch him move against him but finds himself pushing up into Jack’s thrusts. He pulls his teeth from Jack, has to pull back and gasp as Jack wails and moves harder against him. He presses his forehead against Jack’s collarbone, heaving and gasping as he watches Jack roll against him (watches the way Jack’s cock bobs obscenely with each thrust, red and swollen and dripping with icy fluid and it must hurt by now, has to ache with how hard it is.)

“That’s it Jack that’s it you’re so good, so good.” His voice is broken and he can barely manage to get his words through his harsh grabs for air but he can’t stop. “You have no idea, no idea how you look you’re so desperate, you need this NEED it need me inside you need me taking you.” 

Jack’s voice goes louder, cracks and makes a garbled sound that may have been an attempt at words. His thrusts are growing erratic and he’s practically sobbing against Pitch’s ear now. Pitch takes pity on him, wraps a hand around the demanding erection dripping onto him and bites his lip at the choked cry he pulls from Jack. He can feel the way Jack tightens around him, the way his hips stutter and push harder, trying to get Pitch deeper and he knows he can’t take much more.

“Just like that Jack come on come on show me how much you need it, show me, you marvelous creature. You’re so good Jack, so good you’re such a good boy such a perfect thing-” He’s cut off by Jack’s scream, choked and almost pained as he slams down one last time and grinds into Pitch while he comes.

It’s heaven, it’s a painful, blinding, and burning heaven searing through him and he’s sure he’ll die from it. He’s burning and has to bite into Jack’s skin again to ground himself, to feel the cold in his mouth as he shudders into the impossibly tight cold clenching around him.

Jack slumps against him, gulping down air and vibrating with the aftershocks. Pitch clings to him, running his hands over chilled, wet skin and mouthing at the bright red marks he’s left on Jack’s shoulders.

Jack curls in, huddles against Pitch and tucks himself into a small, vulnerable thing. He doesn’t pull away, doesn’t make any move to pull off of Pitch (which Pitch knows is for his benefit, he loves staying inside Jack as long as he can, for however long Jack will let him) while his breathing settles.

Pitch presses his lips to white hair, inhales deeply and wraps his arms around Jack (surrounding him while he’s inside him while Jack is on him and Jack’s legs around him and he can’t tell where one ends and the other begins can’t tell where his heat gives way to ice.)

There are moments he wants to preserve forever, that he wants to feel and see with perfect clarity whenever he wants. And this is certainly one of them.


End file.
